Hope, Coffee, and Melody
by Throw an Inkpot
Summary: A quiet moment after the mess of the Promised Day, when Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye's world is beginning to right itself.


They had been discharged from the hospital early in the afternoon, but Roy had insisted on stopping at Central Command first. What was meant to be a brief check on the progress there, ended up being hours spent assisting in putting the government and military back together. It was well into the night by the time Riza drove the car to his apartment.

She hesitated, hand hovering over the gear-shift. After the month in the hospital, separated only by the few feet between their hospital beds, it felt wrong to leave. She had to—she couldn't stay, she knew—but she couldn't simply leave him at his door and drive away.

Riza opened her mouth, unsure what she was going to say, but the Colonel beat her to it.

"Coffee?" he asked, and she could hear in his voice the same stubborn unwillingness to be apart.

Riza nodded. "I'll come in for a few minutes, Sir." It was a reminder to them both. It could only be a few minutes.

When he unlocked the door and led her in, the rooms inside were a dusty mess. Riza navigated through the clutter and still-unpacked boxes from the move to Central, raising an eyebrow at the thick layer coating everything.

"I'm sure all of this is from your month away," she teased dryly, looking to Roy.

He smiled sheepishly. "Well, plotting against an evil government keeps you busy."

Riza's mouth twitched, but she only headed to the kitchen. She retrieved the percolator from a cupboard while Roy fetched the coffee from another and passed it to her. While she prepared the pot and started the stove, Riza heard him moving back into the living. The coffee was set on the burner, warming to brew, when music began playing from behind her. Riza paused. Slowly, she turned.

Roy stepped into view from the living room, smiling when he met her eyes. "I thought a celebratory dance might be in order," he explained. "And what's a dance without music."

"Colonel?"

"We did just survive a coup, afterall."

Riza bit back a disbelieving laugh. A coup was the least they had been through with the last two months—the last six months, even. They had survived far more than that.

Still, she shook her head. "I don't think so, Sir."

"Come on, Hawkeye. A dance is the least we can have."

No, no it wasn't. Riza glanced away from him. A dance was more than she should dream of having.

"Let's just drink our coffee," she murmured, facing the stove again.

His footsteps sounded softly on the floor, approaching her, and she felt his presence behind. "Don't do this. Please," he pleaded quietly. "For right now, can we have this moment?"

"Colonel…"

"Dance with me," Roy whispered. "One dance, Riza."

Riza dropped her shoulders and drew a deep breath. "Alright."

In one move, she turned on her heels and took one of Roy's hands in her grasp; with a tug, he led them onto what open floor there was. He twirled them, and they were dancing. There was a soft, brilliant smile on his face, and she drank it in as they moved.

It was incredible to think that after everything, here they were—in his apartment well past midnight, dancing to a cheerful song from the radio. Roy spun her under his arm, and Riza saw lights flash under her closed lids. He pulled her back in, hand returning to rest comfortably on her back.

They were dancing. They were alive, they would be heading to help restore Ishval in a few weeks, there were rumors of a promotion to Brigadier-General in his future—and they were together, dancing. A bright sensation bubbled up in her chest, and Riza smiled wider than she had let herself in a long time.

One dance. After it ended, they drank their coffee. After the coffee was gone, he saw her to the door, and after they had made their good-byes, she left to drive to her apartment. The few hours of the night slipped away, and when the dawn broke, golden and rosy, it shone down on the city. The two soldiers were woken from dreams of smiles, twirls, and the taste of slightly burned coffee on each other's lips left by the kiss that had been their good-bye.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _Written for the prompt: "Dance with me." Title is from the song New Day by the Robbie Seay Band, which I listened to while writing. Any thoughts and critiques are welcome!  
_


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